


Christmas Cookies

by umplsstop



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sappiness, UKUS, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umplsstop/pseuds/umplsstop
Summary: England visits America on Christmas Eve to find him attempting to make Christmas cookies; he helps out. Kind of.





	Christmas Cookies

When England arrived at his boyfriend's brownstone home, he wasn't sure what he expected.

New York was beautiful in the snow that laid across the land like a thick blanket; it was Christmas Eve and he flew over that afternoon to visit and spend time with America. 

He walked up the steps and raised his hand to knock before he heard a loud crash, a swear, and thumping of footsteps before America swung the door open. He wore an American flag apron and had flour completely covering him. He wore pajama bottoms with cartoon french fries and a sweatshirt. 

"England!" He greeted with a large grin. He leaned forward, grabbed England by the arm and pulled him in and as soon as he shut the door he gave England a big smooch on the cheek and then a wet kiss on the lips. "Hi!"

England gave America an affectionate glance as he took off his coat and scarf and hung it on his coat hanger. "Hello, love," he greeted and gave America's home a glance over.

America looked at England and waved him off. "You look too stuffy--" England huffed. He wore the same thing as he always did, pants and a sweater vest. "--go get in some PJs and get in the mood!" He began shoving England away, despite him complaining about him getting his dirty hands on his clean shirt.

Sighing with a shake of his head, England grabbed his suitcase and walked to America's room, changed into his pajama bottoms with snowflakes on them and a shirt with the British flag. He hurried back out to see America stirring in a bowl with a determined look on his face.

America looked up with sparkling eyes. "Now you're in the Christmas mood!"

England rolled his eyes. "What are you doing now?"

"Making Christmas cookies!" responded America with a 'duh' tone.

England walked over to America's pantry and pulled out a plain white apron he threw in there. "I suppose I'll help?"

America moved over and slapped England on the back. "That's the spirit old man!"

Now, England may be made fun of for his cooking but he is a rather talented baker and America certainly had no complaints. England glanced over at the clock on the oven. It was 7:36 P.M. 

"You're doing it wrong!" fussed England. "Where is the salt?"

America rolled his eyes. "It's in there already!"

England snatched a printed out recipe on the counter. "Did you even preheat the oven?"

"Darn it I knew I forgot something!"

England went over and preheated it for him, remembering in time that it was fahrenheit and not celsius. "I will never like their ways of measuring," he muttered to himself, then glancing back at America who was squinting at the recipe. 

"Oh, give me that," huffed England as he reached over and grabbed the bowl.

"No way dude, I am not a child!"

England locked eyes with America, tugging at the bowl. "America, you are my boyfriend and can do many amazing things and I love you dearly," England grit his teeth. "But you. Can. Be. In-comp-e-tent!" At every syllable England tugged. 

America let go of the bowl and it flew out of England's hands, and thankfully it didn't break but the ingredients inside flew everywhere over England.

England glanced down at himself, eyes bugging out. Just after he changed too! He slowly looked up to see America chewing on his lip, a grin on his face. "Oops?"

England glanced down again, then up at America. Finally, the America couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out in loud laughter that England couldn't help but have his heart swell at the absolute adorable sound. America laughed so hard he had to lean against the counter for support. 

An idea hit England as he stretched across the counter and grabbed the bag of flour. He dug his hands in it and threw it at America, dusting it all over his hair.

America sat up, eyes wide. His giggles then got louder as he shook his head. "Two can play that game!" 

America dove for the carton of eggs and grabbed one then cracked it over England's head. England let out a small yelp, grimacing at the feeling of the yolk in his hair. For good measure, America leaned over and started massaging it into his scalp. 

England leaned back, pushing America away as he couldn't help the child-like giggles escape his mouth and chuckles at America's expensive as his wiped his dirty glasses. 

The two men danced around the kitchen, acting like little boys as they threw flour and eggs and sugar at each other. Their cookies were completely forgotten, focused on dirtying the other up as much as possible.

England backed away into the living room, letting America follow him. Then, he pounced. He tackled America into their couch, neither caring much if it got dirty, then he began tickling the other man. America kicked and screamed as England was merciless. He squeezed at his sides until America was out of breath and finally managed to get England to stop.

"England!" he panted. America chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Woo."

England was straddling America on the couch, face red from laughter and hair pale as snow from the flour save for the leftover yolk that refused to fall out. 

England stared down at his adorable, beautiful, handsome boyfriend and smiled as warmly as he could. "We must look insane," he chuckled, reaching down and squeezing America's cheek.

America held onto England's hand and rubbed his thumb over it, still having it on his cheek. "You still look beautiful," he said sheepishly.

England freed his hand, patting America's cheek and then resting it on America's chest. "You do know how to flatter," he cooed, leaning down to peck America and then sitting back up. "Anything else? Do carry on."

"Your eyes are beautiful, and your hair still looks cute even with the egg yolk," said America. "I don't need a present this year if I have you, England."

England flushed, looking away. "Oh well now you're just saying stuff!" He stammered, flustered. 

America said nothing, just stretching his hand over his head and leaning back to turn on their record player that began playing upbeat Christmas music.

"Care to dance, baby?"

 

 

 


End file.
